


Soothe Thy Hurts

by serotinous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, aiming for hotness but ending up with crack, per usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26591281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serotinous/pseuds/serotinous
Summary: Qui-Gon was injured. Obi-Wan was concerned. I wanna write smut, but my G-rated brain sucks.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 24
Collections: Backwards QuiObi Bang





	Soothe Thy Hurts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kurtssingh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurtssingh/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Soothe Thy Hurts](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/688843) by Kurtssingh. 



> Inspired and Beta'ed by dearest Kurt, and I'm only responsible for the cracky bits (dodging).

“Just what do you think you are doing?”

Qui-Gon heaved an inward sigh of resignation. As he turned around, however, his smile was all of innocence and merriment again. “Oh good evening, Master Che. I just realized the skyline looked particularly stunning from this balcony.”

Unfortunately, Vokara Che wasn’t someone to be so easily distracted. “Good evening to you, too, Knight Jinn. I’m glad you approve of the view, but are you trying to sneak out of the infirmary again?”

“Of course not,” Qui-Gon’s innocent smile didn’t even waver. “After all, since I am already a _Knight_ and no longer require my former Master’s approval to leave the ward, I can simply check myself out. So no, Master Che, I’m not _sneaking_ out.”

Vokara snorted with amusement, “An impressive excuse, but I’m afraid you need to stay here for _two full weeks_ as we originally prescribed. Besides, Master Kenobi insisted on this.”

“But Master Kenobi is not –”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi may no longer be your Master, but he is still a member of the High Council, which makes his wish my command,” Vokara interrupted, waving her hands briskly. “So chop chop young man. Go back to your bed.”

“Master Che…” Qui-Gon tried his best to sound forlorn, but the healer merely smiled–almost a little too pleasantly, “Only two more days, Qui-Gon. Surely it will not be as bad as your last solo mission on that outer rim planet, now will it.”

Well, it will certainly not, considering it was the blasted mission that landed him in the infirmary in the first place.

But still close enough.

The healing ward was not as hostile and treacherous as that remote world that Qui-Gon had returned from, as the only mortal danger he had to face here was boredom. He had no lack of company in his waking hours, and sometimes the healer on duty had to politely ask some of Qui-Gon’s jolly friends (and on one occasion the formidable young Skywalker) to leave.

The one person who Qui-Gon wanted to see the most, however, was constantly occupied elsewhere, so during the night he had only this unbearable quiet to keep him company.

As the latest addition to the High Council, Obi-Wan was as busy as the newly promoted Qui-Gon, except that while Qui-Gon was hopping from one backwater planet to another, Obi-Wan was mired in all those tedious senatorial gatherings and pompous social events. New council members didn’t have the privilege to choose their missions; neither did fresh Knights.

On this account, Qui-Gon almost felt sorry for his former Master. Almost.

No, he was _not_ upset that Obi-Wan did not even come up with any fresh reason when he refused to bypass the regular visiting hours.

 _We have to abide by the rules_ , he told Qui-Gon over the comlink, with all due regret. _I miss you each and every day, dear one, but the Code and duties must come first_.

Qui-Gon understood all of those. He and Obi-Wan took the pledge as soon as Obi-Wan joined the Council. Qui-Gon loved and respected his lover, and he gladly accepted the older man’s peculiar fondness of rules and regulations. Yet he still felt slightly miffed that Obi-Wan had no qualms about pulling rank when he needed to strap his former apprentice on the sickbed. Come to think of it, he should have expected this.

“My dear old Master was a hypocrite,” Qui-Gon murmured, sprawled on the bed and stared at the ceiling of which he had counted the number of the cracks over and over. “When _he_ was the one that got injured and was ordered to stay in bed, he slipped away the moment Vokara turned her back, rules be damned.”

“What are you mumbling about?” A familiar voice asked.

“Master!” Qui-Gon sat bolt upright and immediately regretted his action as he pulled one of his sore muscles. “Ouch,” he groaned.

“Qui-Gon! You are in pain! Should I call the healer? I should just let you rest—”

It seemed his former Master had instantly entered the full panic-mother-hen mode. Qui-Gon chuckled, grabbed Obi-Wan’s wrist and used the only proven method to calm the older man down.

He kissed him.

Obi-Wan squeaked.

Qui-Gon burst into soft laughter, “Master, I’m as delighted as you are since you’ve finally come to visit me, but may I suggest you keep quiet so that neither of us will get into trouble?” He looked at Obi-Wan with one eyebrow raised mischievously. “I presume you are here _without_ proper clearance from Master Che?”

Now it was his Master’s turn to mumble, “I may or may not have persuaded the healer outside.” He fidgeted, “You know, with a little help from the Force.”

Even though the healing ward was enveloped in the semi-darkness, Qui-Gon had no problem seeing Obi-Wan’s adorable blushing face, so he had to kiss him again.

“I’ve missed you so much my dear one,” Obi-Wan sighed into the kiss, his fingers warm and soft against Qui-Gon’s cheek. “I know you’re not supposed to be released for another two days, but those Force-forsaken senate hearings never seem to end and I have to see you— I have to take matters into my own hand.”

“In that case, you have no one else but yourself to blame, Master. Vokara told me that you specifically asked her to keep me here.”

Obi-Wan’s attitude immediately changed, no longer a tender lover but a stern instructor instead, “That is an entirely different matter. I will never ever put your health condition at risk— uhmmm!”

It was a pity that Qui-Gon could not use the kissing trick to cut off Obi-Wan’s many long and boring lectures when he was still a Padawan; otherwise, his apprenticeship would have been much more gratifying. Now that he had all the time in the world, he intended to enjoy such trick to its full extent.

When they eventually broke the kiss, both of them were panting a little. Obi-Wan was half lying, half straddling Qui-Gon’s hips, but he was already trying to break away, “I can’t— your injuries—”

“it’s fine, Obi, I’m all healed,” Qui-Gon grinned as Obi-Wan froze up with his whole face reddened when hearing his nickname. “It’s not that bad. You can see for yourself.”

He _was_ all healed, but Obi-Wan’s hesitant touch on his bandaged chest still struck Qui-Gon like a lightning bolt.

“I wish—” Obi-Wan sounded almost choked when he gently pressed his lips against the scar on Qui-Gon’s shoulder. “I wish you could stop this. Stop getting hurt.” He closed his eyes.

Qui-Gon tilted his head, “That might be difficult.”

Obi-Wan blinked and the next moment looked stung, as something akin to shame flashed through his eyes, “Right. Of course, you have your duties. That’s such a dumb thing to ask, not to mention it sounds so unworthy of a Jedi—”

Qui-Gon shook his head and chuckled, “That’s not what I meant.”

His Master frowned with a puzzled look and a trace of lingering bashfulness, “Then what were you trying to say…?”

“I was just trying to be candid here, Master,” Qui-Gon allowed himself a sly smile. “Given the possibility you sneak into my room and kiss me stupid every time I get injured, I probably will not be sufficiently motivated to prevent similar accidents in the future.”

“Qui-Gon!”

Again his Master was trying to squirm out of his embrace, so Qui-Gon had to pull him closer, “Please, Obi-Wan, stay.”

“But –”

He could sense the older man’s hesitation, and when he lightly stroked his Master’s lower back, Obi-Wan shivered. Qui-Gon smiled, “I know you want to stay with me, too. Besides, it would be quite, uh, unconscientious for you to just walk out and leave me here flustered. You know, stress and all. Bad for healing.”

Obi-Wan’s internal struggle was almost tangible, but eventually he relented, as always. “You must promise me you will stop if you feel any discomfort –”

“There won’t be any discomfort. Trust me, Master.”

Obi-Wan’s lips twitched. He pointed at Qui-gon’s gown, “In that case, take off the clothes yourself. I am not doing it for you.”

“My dear Master,” Qui-Gon laughed, “you sure know how to get someone in the mood.”

The position was satisfying yet still a little bit awkward for Obi-Wan to prepare himself. Qui-Gon had regretted for a moment that he could not turn up the light to appreciate the rare view that was currently panting on his laps, as extra lighting might attract some unwanted attention. On the other hand, Obi-Wan’s pale skin looked luminescent in the soft moonlight, his face flushed, his hair radiant as if with a halo.

He looked like an elvish creature that would only appear in a beautiful, distant dream.

Qui-Gon found it suddenly hard to speak aloud, so he raised his hands to gently hold his lover’s hips, his thumbs twiddling in small circles, “I’m not an invalid, Master. Let me help you.”

“I don’t –,” Obi-Wan took a shaky breath, “I don’t want you to pull your shoulders.”

“But from this angle you can’t reach deep enou–”

“I know. It will probably burn a little,” Obi-Wan held his upper body against the headboard and raised his waist, “but then I can just feel you. More.”

Both of them gasped when Obi-Wan was stretched – at last! – fully and properly by no longer his own fingers but Qui-Gon’s.

To his amusement, after several heavy breaths his Master asked, almost in a huff, “Well? Aren’t you going to move? Like _right now_?”

“You see, I’m trying to be careful here, Master. Don’t want to pull any muscles.” Qui-Gon’s voice was again all innocence.

“I clearly remember someone just told me he was not an invalid – Ah! Ahhh Qui! Qui-Gon that’s too, too much—”

“Hmm. I’m impressed you can still remember our conversation that happened five minutes ago.”

“It’s too, ah, too fast Qui, I haven’t been, ah, I’m not gonna—”

“It’s okay, Master,” Qui-Gon moaned softly, “you can enjoy yourself all you want.” It’s not as if Qui-Gon was able to rein himself under the circumstances, as it had indeed been too long. But fortunately (or unfortunately for his dear old Master, from a certain point of view), stamina was not Qui-Gon’s concern, and the night was still young.

Obi-Wan, predicably, was still fighting the inevitable, “No Qui you have to, ah, we’ll make a mess here and t-there’s no way to —”

“No way to clean it up later? That’s easy. I’ll just lick you clean,” Qui-Gon flashed a somewhat wolfish grin, and he grinded his hips for good measure. “Including _here_ , Obi. So there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Qui! Ahhh—”

END


End file.
